


The Drawer

by Durple



Category: Original Work
Genre: Do Not Read if you have a n y triggers, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Just some poetry, Like this is some pretty dark stuff, Other, Poetry, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durple/pseuds/Durple
Summary: Lowkey just some regular poetry that I write during mental breakdowns.
Kudos: 2





	1. The Drawer

I am a creative soul. I sketch, read, and write.

All of those things are just so right.

A book, a long one

detailed like me.

A pencil

loose and carefree.

I love it all, through both trouble and entropy.

And then I have an epiphany.

I draw to feel happy.

I draw when I feel sappy.

Creativity,

the thing I love so dear,

is not helping anyone near

Not me

Nor him

It all feels so grim

No longer do I feel happy

as I turn to the drawer

That damn drawer

It shook me to the core

But the fear of four overweighs the fear of death

They would be heartbroken, tears would pour

I put the knife away

“Please, nobody find this” I pray.

The knife is no longer there.

Worries disappear into thin air.

Life is, for once, fair.

Creativity reigns once more

and life is no longer a chore.


	2. The Point

The point of a pencil

The point of a knife

The point of a ruler

The point of a life

Troubles appear, creativity fails

Though it is temporary, it leaves a trail

A miserable experience, cruel and strained

But The Drawer still stays, not at all blood-stained

Teardrops rain down with time

Drawing pauses, it feels sublime

But it continues, day after day

One day full of laughter, another dull and gray

The Drawer still stays, a requiem of yesterday

Sorrow and stress, molded like clay

Though the knife is not there, it’s presence doesn’t stray

The memory is still there, guiding the way

Guilt

Guilt and despair

Such things become too much to bare.

But The Drawer still stays, a promise made

“Such things will not hurt me” A lie, a trade

For a life without want, for a life you must pay.

The knife is ignored, it’s point still sharp

Enough to carve a hole right into the heart

It crawls out, it’s gleam bright and bold

Since when had the heart become so cold?

But the heart still beats

And The Drawer still stays.

A moment of happiness - a treat

Makes the lie into a truth, even when the heart weeps.


End file.
